


The Shade of Night Grows Ever Longer

by bejesusness



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, but there's an hea i promise, i dont want to say too much and spoil it, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25742776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bejesusness/pseuds/bejesusness
Summary: AU off of Dr Bashir I Presume.When Julian's genetic status becomes public record, he makes a desperate decision to run. But with freedom only meters in front of him, a dead body turns up and causes an even bigger stir amongst the crew. Will anyone be able to determine what really happened that night?
Relationships: Jadzia Dax & Benjamin Sisko, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 13
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

Julian had to admit, it felt a little better to have gotten it all off his chest. Of course, in a perfect world, he would have never told Miles about his genetic enhancements in the first place. But since the cat was officially out of the bag, and Miles had been there personally to see it escape, there had been no reason not to go into more detail about it. To at least tell someone his side of the story before it all went to shit.

Julian answered all of his friend’s questions and when he finished, Miles asked him one more. The dreaded “So… what are you going to do now?”

Julian knew exactly what he was going to have to do next. He’d planned for this very day ever since he’d first set foot on Deep Space Nine. It always seemed inevitable that he’d be found out eventually. Julian Bashir would never get to live happily ever after. Which is why on his first day on DS9 he’d come up with a plan. It grew and developed over the past five years, and what he had now almost seemed fool-proof. Technically, one could say Julian had twenty-six different plans—a new one branching off the original depending on how exactly things decided to play out. There were certain aspects even he couldn’t properly predict the outcome of. So he planned for every possible scenario. He was ready.

✲

It was well into the evening when Julian climbed the few stairs leading to Captain Benjamin Sisko’s office. He entered the room, and as the door closed behind him, Dr Bashir approached the desk and handed his commanding officer a PADD. Ben gave him The Look, and Julian explained, “My letter of resignation, sir. I’ll be leaving for Earth in the morning.”

Ben sat the PADD on his desk without even a glance at it. He kept his eyes set firmly on the man in front of him. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave the station just yet, Doctor,” he said.

“Look,” Julian pleaded, “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Ben sighed, then gestured to the chair across from him. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

Julian let himself fall back into the chair. The hard lines his face had become seemed to age him, and yet at the same time, the vulnerable look in his eyes made the doctor almost appear younger than ever.

“This situation is… complicated,” Ben said. “There are some serious accusations being thrown at you.”

“About my being genetically enhanced,” Julian confirmed apathetically.

“So it’s true then?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” Julian answered, “but I have a feeling you already knew that.”

He did, but Ben wanted to hear the doctor himself confirm it. “I’ve had Odo start looking into things as soon as I got the call from Starfleet,” Ben said. “They’ve already started breathing down my neck. They want me to put you in a holding cell overnight, and I imagine the warrant for your arrest will be here in the morning.” 

“I see,” Julian said, and rose to the edge of his seat. “Well, I suppose I ought to get to security, then. I’m sure Odo will appreciate not having to come find me.”

Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. As he felt his anger begin to boil over, he gave up trying to keep his face professionally calm. “You’re not going to fight this?” he asked incredulously. 

“What’s there to fight?” Julian asked with a jerky shrug. “I was in the wrong. Starfleet is very clear about their attitude toward augments. I should never have joined and I should never have become a doctor.”

The more Ben thought about this whole thing, the more he could empathize. “Perhaps not,” he said. “In which case, a discharge would suffice. But right now you’re looking at years in prison. Starfleet wants to hold you accountable for your genetic engineering, despite the fact that you were only a child when this was done to you and had no legal say in the matter. From what I gather, they are trying to claim that you are violating Federation law by simply existing, Julian. A person cannot be illegal!”

Julian looked down toward his hands in his lap. He took a breath to steady himself, then said, “Captain, I understand the gravity of this. Believe me, I do. But Starfleet… won’t be letting me off the hook for this. I’ve run every possible scenario through my head. Many times. The best thing for me right now is to go along with this.” He met Ben’s eyes again with despair and resignation, but there also seemed to be a strength burning inside him. “This was always a possibility, Captain. And I’ve come to terms with it. What happens next? I’m prepared for it.”

Ben sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Alright,” he said. “Report to security. You’re under Odo’s care until further notice.” Ben waited until he had Julian’s complete attention, then said, “But know that even if you don’t fight this, I will.”

Julian had to have known that Ben would be supportive of him regardless of his true status as an augment. Ben Sisko could be a stern, no-nonsense captain, but he also tried to show his kindness and care when he could, especially to his senior staff—his friends. But Julian looked shocked for a second before warmth bubbled up to his face and he let himself show a real smile. “Thank you, sir,” he said.

Ben nodded. “Whatever happens, I’ll be delivering the verdict myself, as soon as it becomes available. Dismissed.”

✲

Dr Bashir sat quietly in his cell for a bit, perfectly behaved, before requesting to speak with Odo. Odo, of course, promptly entered into lock-up and stood before Bashir’s cell. “What is it, Doctor?” he asked.

“Hey, Odo,” Julian greeted with a lopsided smile that looked as though a strong breath of wind could blow it straight off his face. “I was hoping you could do me a favor.”

Odo wasn’t in the habit of doing favors for those kept in his holding cells, but this was Doctor Bashir. Odo knew this was a singular type of case. “What type of favor?” he asked.

Julian bit his lip. “I’d like you to page Garak and ask him to come visit me.”

“Absolutely not.” Technically, those held in security were allowed visitors. But Garak was a known criminal. Well, most of it wasn’t proven, but Odo knew. Bringing him into this tetchy situation could only harm Dr Bashir in the long run.

“Please, Odo?” the doctor begged. “He’s my best friend—I just want to talk to him.”

Odo gave Julian A Look. “I thought the chief was your best friend.”

“That’s also true,” Julian ceded. “A person’s allowed to have more than one best friend. Besides, I’ve already gotten to talk to Miles about all this.”

Odo realized he’d have to convince the doctor how terrible this idea of his truly was. “It’s not wise to bring someone like Garak into this,” he explained. “Even having him visit you could make you look bad in the eyes of the Federation. Remember, he is a spy from the Obsidian Order. Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble already without the Federation using the excuse that you’ve been consorting with the enemy?” 

Julian faltered where he stood behind the forcefield. He sat on the bench and fidgeted with his fingers and said, “I just… there’s something I have to say to him. Odo, I don’t know how much you know about the Federation and what they plan on doing with me, but once I’m taken off this station, none of you will ever see me again. I can promise that.”

Odo half expected the doctor to defend the Federation and claim how Good and Kind and Honest they were. At least the kid understood what he was getting into. 

“Please Odo, let Garak come visit me.” He offered the constable a bitter smile. “One lab rat to another?” Julian looked down, as if debating whether or not to go on. “I know you say you don’t understand love,” he finally said almost too softly to be heard properly, “but please let me do this. I can’t leave without telling him how I feel.”

Damn. It wasn’t as shocking a revelation to Odo as might have been for anyone else on the station. He’d always suspected there were some sort of  _ feelings _ between the two of them. But love? Hrmph!

Odo tapped his combadge. “Odo to Garak’s Clothiers,” he directed.

Only a few scant seconds passed before Garak replied. “Constable!” he welcomed, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Odo glanced back at the doctor and met his big round eyes with his own. “I need you to report to Security at your earliest convenience.”

There was a brief rustling on Garak’s end before he replied. “… I’ll be there shortly.”

The line disconnected. Julian’s smile, though subdued from the whole situation he found himself in, still shone through the gloom that had begun coagulating within his cell. “Thank you,” he said with so much emotion and warmth, Odo almost felt it would melt him on the spot. He didn’t let any of this show, however, and simply nodded in return.

Garak didn’t waste any time getting there. It couldn’t have been five minutes after he’d been paged that he came waltzing through the door from the security office, escorted inside by one of Odo’s security officers. He came to a halt in front of the doctor’s cell, right next to Odo. Garak’s face didn’t betray any emotions he might be feeling, but he did stand there for a brief second, staring at the sight in front of him. Finally, he said, “Doctor, I must say, this is quite the surprise.”

“My being in jail? Yes, I imagine it is,” Julian said. Odo moved to stand closer to the door. To at least give them the illusion of privacy. “It’s one of the few things I wanted to talk to you about,” Julian went on. “The other, though, I think I’ll start with before I lose my nerve.” He stood up and crossed the cell in two brisk steps so he stood directly in front of Garak. “I wish it could be under better circumstances, but…I love you, Garak.”

Garak didn’t recoil, but he did sway backward a bit. “My dear?” He choked out, sounding half-drowned.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Julian assured him. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I just wanted to tell you while I still had the chance.”

“Are you being reassigned?” Garak asked.

“I’m being discharged and likely arrested. I imagine I’ll be taken to a Federation prison for the foreseeable future.”

“May I ask what for?” 

“I’m an augment. I was genetically enhanced as a child.”

“And that’s illegal in the Federation?” Garak said, more than asked.

“Yes, very much so,” Julian agreed.

“Surely you didn’t alter your own genes.”

“No, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. I’m an augment and I’ve joined Starfleet and I’ve become a doctor and I’ve been caught.”

“I see,” Garak said. “Odo, may I?” He gestured to the cell.

Odo walked over with a hrmph. He let down the forcefield. “Make it quick.”

Garak stepped inside the cell. He took the doctor’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. Julian gasped and blushed. Then Garak kissed him on the lips, the way that solids do when they’re trying to be romantic; with hands holding one another’s face and a slight dip at the waist as one of them is pulled back. After the kiss broke, the two embraced for a few seconds before Garak said, “Of course I feel the same.” Odo found it all to be rather melodramatic. Even for Garak.

Once Garak stepped through the barrier, Odo raised the force field back up and escorted Garak out of Security. The sooner Garak got out of there and back to somewhere he hopefully wouldn’t cause too much trouble, the better.

The next few hours passed slowly for Odo. Outside of the odd manhunt or illegal dealing that went on, he didn’t typically worry about time in the same way that solids did. But in this particular situation, time did have a greater meaning to him. He looked at the chronometer. It was 24:30. He didn’t have much time left.

Captain Sisko asked him to look over all the reports filed so far regarding Dr Bashir’s newly discovered genetic status, as well as Federation law regarding augments, general Starfleet policy, and even the doctor’s personal records in hopes of finding some sort of loophole before morning. Anything they could work with to put up a decent argument to stall for time while they figured out what to do with their contrabanded Dr Bashir.

Odo understood the captain’s loyalty to their CMO. He was quite a good doctor and had earned the adoration and respect of everyone on the station. So he could also understand why the doctor had kept his true nature secret. Revealing that he was different—an  _ other _ , something to be feared and gawked at—could only have made things harder for himself, as well as set those around him at unease. 

But Odo also understood that Dr Bashir had broken several Federation laws by enlisting in Starfleet and becoming a doctor. Regardless of Odo’s personal feelings on the matter, it was his job to see that justice was served. And he took his job very seriously. However, if there was a loophole that could exonerate the good doctor, Odo would find it.

Odo was startled out of his search by a beep of his combadge. It was one of his deputies, reporting a disturbance on the Promenade. Something to do with a wild vole running amok. Odo sighed, even though he had no physical need to move air through his body. He called a few of his officers to watch the security office in his absence and considered whether a Terellian mountain cat or a pygmy Delosian tiger would have a better physique for vole hunting.

When he approached the location of the disturbance and his deputy, Odo was absolutely floored by what he saw. “What is going on?” he asked as he took in the scene before him.

“It was just the one,” the deputy explained as she gave up chasing a rather mean-looking vole in favor of briefing her boss. “But then more and more started to show up. And now… this.” 

Odo didn’t think voles traveled in herds, but that’s exactly what was on the Promenade—a whole herd of voles, skittering around aimlessly between pedestrians who, themselves, were unable to escape the havoc for fear of tripping over a vole, or worse: stepping on one and risk getting bitten. A vole bite wasn’t deadly, but it was quite the unpleasant experience—at least, that’s what Odo’s been told.

The deputy continued, “I called for back-up but so far no one’s had any luck. We haven’t caught a single one… What should we do, sir?”

First thing’s first: restrict the hazardous area. 

Odo tapped his combadge and directed the line to Captain Sisko.

“Sisko here.”

“Captain,” Odo projected his voice over the frenzied screams in the background, “There’s a situation on the Promenade. At least twenty… thirty wild voles running around causing quite a panic. Until the situation is sorted I suggest quarantining the entire level.”

“Consider it done,” the captain said. Odo could hear him immediately calling out orders to the staff in Ops. “It sounds like quite the crisis down there,” he spoke again into his combadge. “Do you need any assistance?” 

“We could use some medical staff,” Odo said. “It sounds as though some of them have started biting.”

“We’ll send a team down right away. Anything else?”

“Not unless you know any easy ways to get rid of these pests.”

“We’ll see if we can come up with anything. We’ll also try to figure out where all these voles came from and see if we can prevent it from happening again.”

That didn’t console Odo the way he expected the captain hoped it would. He still had a great mess on his hands. But, with so many voles, there was always the possibility of foul play. Odo would have preferred to be the one investigating it, but his skill set was in greater need here on the Promenade, wrangling voles.

“Keep me updated,” Odo requested.

“Will do. Sisko out.”

Now that the area was blocked off, medical was coming to take care of the wounded, and Odo had a whole team of security personnel at his disposal, it was finally time for him to start hunting some damn voles. 

✲

This wasn’t the first time Benjamin Sisko had to deal with voles on the station. There was a period of time where the vermin were just about everywhere. But that was a while ago, and Ben had foolishly believed that Miles O’Brien and the others had successfully flushed them all out from all of their hiding places. Obviously, that was not true seeing how the station was, once again, being overrun by voles.

“Why can’t we just transport them off the station?” Worf asked.

O’Brien looked up over his console with a frown. “I can’t get a lock on any of ‘em,” he said.

“They’re moving too fast?” Ben guessed.

“No,” O’Brien said, his eyebrows twisting together, “for some reason, the computer just won’t recognize them.”

“I’m getting the same problem,” Jadzia Dax said from her station. She’d been trying to follow them back to their point of origin. “I can’t figure out where these fuckers came from.”

“Shoot them with a phaser,” Worf suggested.

“In that chaos?” Major Kira scoffed as she sorted through cargo records, looking for anything big enough to have hidden a whole army of voles. “You could just as easily hit a bystander.”

“What about anesthezine gas?” Ben asked. He’d heard Dax suggest that type of thing in other situations. “We could vent some onto the promenade. Knock them right out.”

Jadzia raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, along with all the people who are also stuck there.”

“We use nets then,” Worf offered. “Like butterfly nets, but bigger.”

“You’ve obviously never tried to wrangle a vole,” O’Brien said with a shiver. 

“How are there even so many of them to begin with?” Kira asked, completely ignoring Worf and the chief. “I thought we got rid of them all.”

“Must’ve been a couple left behind,” O’Brien sighed. “And from there I suppose they just started breeding like tribbles.”

Ben frowned. “Regardless of where they came from,” he said, “our focus now needs to be on getting rid of them for good. I will not have another tribble incident on our hands.”

The rest of the senior staff mumbled their agreement with the sentiment.

✲

The panic amongst the Promenade refused to die down. They still had yet to actually catch a single vole, and those who were injured would rather argue with the doctors than accept treatment. Odo couldn’t imagine the situation getting any worse. And then his combadge chirped.

“Odo,” he answered, tapping his badge as he continued his pursuit of a particularly irritating vole. The animal had continually outsmarted him: zig-zagging through the crowd, sprinting just beyond his reach when Odo went in for the capture. With this one it was personal.

“There’s uh..,” the officer on the other end of the line spoke in a particular tone that Odo knew meant he was about to receive bad news. “There’s been a security breach in the lock-up. Dr Bashir has escaped.”

Odo channeled his frustration into his next dive at the vole, and to his surprise, he caught it. For half a second, that is, until the vole phased right through his hand and continued on its way. Odo sat up. He tapped his combadge, directing the call, this time, to Ops.

“Captain,” Odo said, “I need you to shut down all main power on the Promenade except for life support and emergency lights.”

A moment’s hesitation, then the captain asked, “May I ask why?”

“I have a feeling these voles aren’t such a solid threat after all.”

The captain wouldn’t yet understand the pun. But he did do as Odo asked and ordered a blackout. Odo watched as the lights dimmed around him. Not a single vole remained.

“As I suspected,” Odo said, still on the line with Captain Sisko. “Have someone wipe the vole program from the hologram matrix.”

“Holograms? Why?”

“A distraction. I’ve just received word that our CMO is now on the run.”

✲

“Computer, locate Dr Bashir,” Sisko commanded.

The computer beeped and in its pleasant automated voice replied, “Unable to complete request.”

Jadzia sat at her station in Ops, closing out all the tabs related to voles: vole anatomy, vole hunting, vole-related-incident statistics, and began to search the computer for some sort of lead on Julian. She needed to puzzle out where he would likely go after escaping Security. And it wouldn’t hurt to figure out  _ why _ he decided to drop everything and go on the run.

“What is Dr Bashir’s last known location?” Sisko tried.

Another beep, then: “Dr Bashir reported for duty at the infirmary today at 0458 hours.”

“That’s not right,” Kira said, scrunching her already crinkled nose up even more as she thought it over. “Odo had him in Security just, what, an hour ago?”

“Yes,” Sisko confirmed, “and I saw him right before that.”

“Are you sure it was him?” Worf asked.

“I’d wager so,” O’Brien said as he tapped mercilessly at the controls on his station. “Earlier, when I saw him myself, it was definitely him. What’s interesting is someone deliberately wiped all his records from the day, along with his access and personnel codes. They knew what they were doing. It’ll be easy enough to recover the files, it just takes a bit of time.” He paused and looked up at his captain. “If Julian’s half as smart as he says he is, he’s the one who did it. If we’re going to find him, we’re gonna have to do it the old fashioned way. But if he doesn’t want to be found...”

If Julian tampered with the files, Jadzia could be running around in digital circles all night. But even if the logs themselves were erased, there would still be an energy signature if he used a transporter or a replicator—any station equipment, really. She just had to look for a power fluctuation within one of the systems that hadn’t been logged. 

“I can get a team together and start looking,” Worf suggested.

“No,” Ben replied. “Odo already has all of Security looking for him.”

“If he’s an augment, he can be dangerous,” Worf argued. “Odo may be hesitant to use the necessary force-”

“Augment or not,” Sisko spoke, his voice raising slightly as was wont to do when his placidity began to wane, “this is still the same Julian we’ve known for the past five years. I have to believe that he will not needlessly endanger lives with whatever this is he’s doing. Until he proves otherwise, he will not be treated as hostile.”

“Not to interrupt,” Jadzia swiftly broke into the conversation, “but I’ve got something. Someone used site-to-site transport to get from Julian’s quarters directly to…” She stared at the screen in confusion, “Quark’s quarters?”

“Quark?” Sisko repeated in disbelief. “He’s a part of this?”

“Of course,” Kira seethed. “It’s always Quark.”

“No, wait,” Jadzia said as she decrypted the rest of the data. “This is Garak’s code.”

“Of course,” Kira seethed with less spirit and more resignation. “When it isn’t Quark, it’s Garak.”

“Computer, locate Garak,” Worf directed, which like before, was met with a brisk “Unable to complete request” from the computer.

“Garak and Julian are working together?” O’Brien asked. “To what end?”

“Perhaps we should ask Quark,” Sisko said. Once he commed Odo with their recent developments, Sisko ordered Quark to report to Ops. Odo dispatched an officer to make sure Quark did.

Jadzia leaned back in her chair. None of this was making sense. Why use the transporter to get to Quark’s quarters? If all of this was only a jailbreak, why not beam directly to a runabout? That would get them past the force fields blocking the corridors and around the guards posted at every airlock. They’d be free. Unless there was something else on the station they had to do first. As Quark was pleading his innocence in the background, it came to her.

“They didn’t want anything to do with Quark,” she interrupted. “They just needed to get to level seventeen.”

“Why level seventeen?” Worf asked.

Jadzia pointed to the map she’d brought up on her screen, even though no one else was close enough to see it. “That’s where the industrial replicator is.” 

Kira moved closer to take a look. “What would they need that for?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Jadzia said, “but according to the energy output, it was used about twenty minutes ago. It’s the only explanation I have that makes any sense.”

“Security to Ops,” came an urgent voice through the speakers, “The lights in the docking ring are out and the force fields won’t come down. Dr Bashir and Garak are here, but we can’t get to them.”

“Chief,” Sisko called.

“Already on it,” O’Brien said, leaping from his control panel into the main engineering access.”

“I’ll help,” Jadzia said, following O’Brien’s instructions and typing them into the computer.

✲

Finally, the force fields lowered and Odo sprinted to the location given to him. As he sped around the curve of the corridor, he heard Garak’s voice ahead. 

“Doctor?” Garak called. He then breathed out a scathing curse in Kardassi, which Odo found strange. He’d never heard Garak swear before—not even in his native tongue. Odo finally came into view of the scene. He slowed to a halt. The world beyond this corridor faded as he stood there, trying to process the scene in front of him. 

Garak knelt on the ground, Dr Bashir cradled in his arms. There was a phaser tossed haphazardly to the side. Smoke lingered around the wound at the middle of Bashir’s chest, the faint scent of char wafting through the corridor. Garak’s face was shadowed from Odo’s perspective, but he could have sworn he saw a drop—a tear!—fall onto Bashir’s still face as Garak carried on: “Julian? No, Julian! No, no. Please. My  _ dear _ .” Odo had never heard Garak’s voice crack before. If he hadn’t heard it himself, he might not have even thought it possible.

Remembering his duty, Odo tapped his combadge and according to protocol, called for an emergency medical transport directly to the infirmary, even though he knew, despite his distance from the body and his lack of medical knowledge, that even the best doctors in the quadrant would be useless—Julian Bashir was already dead. 

Odo pulled out a pair of handcuffs and approached. “Mr Garak,” he said as he pried him from the doctor’s dematerializing form, “you are under arrest for suspicion of murder.”


	2. Chapter 2

The DNA scans were done first. As proven by the recent changeling infiltration, just because the deceased looked like Bashir didn’t mean it was. But… it was. The doctor who performed the autopsy concurred with that assessment. Julian Bashir was indeed dead. Cause of death was a single phaser wound to the chest. Supposed manner of death is homicide. For the circumstances surrounding the death, Ben was instructed to read the investigator’s report (which was yet to be attached).

The investigation, as it was, stretched on into the night. During this time, Ben met with Julian’s parents to give them the bad news. That particular exchange turned out to be a messy affair, with not only the expected cascade of tears and sorrow and even rage but also some serious accusations made by Julian’s father as well as a death threat, none of which Sisko took seriously, considering the circumstances. However, it was by far one of the most horrid experiences Ben had ever had delivering this sort of news. 

By the time Ben finally got to bed, it seemed like only minutes had passed before it was time for him to get up. He changed into a fresh uniform and forced a piece of toast down his own throat before kissing Jake on the forehead and leaving to face the day. It was earlier than usual for him to leave, but he’d scheduled a meeting of the senior staff before day shift started and had to meet Odo before then to discuss any new developments in the case. 

So, one meeting in Security and two raktajinos later, Ben and Odo rode the turbolift together up to Ops. Everyone else was already assembled in the wardroom. Ben clutched the PADD he held in his hand and moved to the head of the table. 

Kira sat to his right. Between the raktajino she held onto like a lifeline and the bags under her eyes, worse than usual and hidden only half-heartedly by her concealer, he determined that she, too, must have been late to bed, early to rise. 

Jadzia sat beside her, seemingly held up only by the chair beneath her. She’d forgone any and all makeup this morning, the only time she ever had since Sisko had first met her as Jadzia. Normally, Dax had an energy to them that seemed to set loose a certain spark of joy, mischief, life, into any room. That energy was nowhere to be found, smothered somewhere in the gloom that had settled around her.

Then was Worf, the regular cloud to Jadzia’s sunshine. Only, without her light shining through, Worf’s own somberance seemed almost overwhelming.

O’Brien sat silent. Still. His eyes red and dull and his hair mussed, more than usual, with some bits sticking out at odd angles as if he’d been pulling at it since yesterday.

Even Odo seemed somewhat diluted in the heavy atmosphere which surrounded them.

Ben cleared his throat and began, “As you all may know, last night, at around 26:00 hours, our Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Julian Bashir was killed. We have yet to determine the full circumstances of his death, but the matter is being investigated with the utmost priority. 

“We have found a note Dr Bashir left in his quarters. It’s not addressed to anyone in particular, but I’ve read it already and I imagine he intended it for all of you. 

“The note reads as follows:

My dearest friends,

First off, I just want to say how sorry I am that it had to come to this. It’s completely my own fault. I know I should never have become a doctor. I know I should never have joined Starfleet. I knew the laws and I did it all anyway. I just wanted to help people. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And surely, despite what crimes I’ve committed, you can’t blame me for that.

Now, since you’re reading this, that means one of two things happened. Either I made a run for it and managed to escape the station… or I’m dead. I hope it’s the first option, but I knew the risks. If I am dead, for whatever reason, I want you to know I don’t blame any of you. I’m sure you did what you had to. And even so, I would rather be dead than living the rest of my life in prison, or worse. 

If I did escape, though, well, I can’t ask you not to look for me. I’m afraid some of you actually might agree to it and I can’t have you jeopardizing your careers for me. So do whatever you have to. If you are the ones who have to track me down, please give it your best effort, because I’ll be doing everything in my power to retain my freedom (within reason of course). 

I love you all. And again, I’m sorry.

Signed, Julian,” Ben finished. The room was silent except for the odd sniffle. He lowered the PADD and looked back up to the watery faces surrounding him. Ben himself was feeling too much at the moment, however, he kept it together for his staff.

“While it is true Dr Bashir had been detained by security,” Ben said, “he had not yet been formally charged with anything, so I don’t want anybody spreading any defamatory rumors. He was not a criminal, and we will not remember him as one. Julian Bashir was a hero. And he will be dearly missed.

“There will be a memorial service for him tomorrow at 18:00 hours. Bereavement leave will be granted to anyone who needs it. You’re all dismissed, as soon as you’re ready.”

Odo and Worf left right away. Kira went over to the replicator and ordered two tissues—one for herself and one for Dax. Chief O’Brien sat expressionless at the table for another five minutes, then got up and left for Engineering. Once everyone else was gone, Ben scrubbed a hand down his face and let out a harsh breath. Dealing with these sorts of things was perhaps the worst part of a captain’s job. And easily the hardest to deal with.

✲

“Dax?” 

Jadzia startled when she heard Ben call out to her from the doorway.

“Benjamin,” she called back as a greeting and politely turned away from her work. She’d have rather kept on without the break, but if Ben noticed how manic she was being about this, he would worry. Or worse: stop her.

Ben stepped into the room and approached her. “You haven’t been here all morning..?” he asked, looking around at the haphazard stacks of PADDs; the empty raktajino cups; and most damnably, the corpse of the late Julian Bashir, laying on a table, frozen in a stasis field to stave off any untimely decay.

Jadzia had very obviously been here all morning. She came to the infirmary right after the staff meeting and had been there since. “It’s fine,” she said. “I swapped shifts with Lt Mielo.”

“It’s not your shift that I’m worried about at the moment.”

“I followed every procedure to make sure the body stays intact and uncontaminated,” Jadzia said, not quite able to meet Ben’s eyes.

“Jadzia,” he said—and Jadzia knew that using her first name meant business, “I’m worried about  _ you. _ ”

“Pff. Me?” she scoffed, but her heart clearly wasn’t in it. “I’m fine.”

Ben pointedly looked around the room again. “Are you?”

“I’m a science officer, Ben. I’m doing science. It’s well within my job description to run a few tests.”

“That’s true,” Benjamin agreed, “But I think your enthusiasm is scaring the nurses. Now tell me, what’s this really about?”

“Dr Roni is a great doctor, but they’re no medical examiner,” she said, running with the first excuse she thought of. “I mean, not that I am either. I just.” She paused and glanced over at the body on the table. The body which had, only yesterday, been filled with so much enthusiasm. So much love. So much life. Now it just lay there, still as… still as death. It made her sick. “I guess I just feel useless,” she said, deciding to tell the truth after all. “I wanted to do something. To help him. I thought maybe I could find something. Some little clue that everyone else happened to miss. And this would all be some big misunderstanding.”

Jadzia bit her lip, hesitating to tell Benjamin the next part. “It’s just that I’ve got this feeling,” she finally said, “I don’t know how to explain it. It just… doesn’t seem like he’s actually dead. I’ve run every test I could think of, even down to a molecular level. It all checks out, all the results say this is him, but it just doesn’t  _ feel _ like Julian.”

Ben stepped forward, laying a hand supportively on her shoulder. “Losing someone is always terrible,” he said gently, “and what happened to Julian was a tragedy. It was unexpected, and violent, and a horrible way to lose a friend. But he is gone, Jadzia. Julian is dead.”

Jadzia could feel the hot swell of tears threatening to overtake her vision. “I know,” she said, and she moved forward into her best friend’s arms and let her head fall against his shoulder. “He was just so  _ good _ . He was kind and bright and optimistic, and he was so  _ young.  _ He could have done so much more, Ben. He could have saved so many lives. He could have been a commander. He could have been a father. There’s just so much…” she stopped to sniffle. “This is ridiculous,” she lamented. “I’ve lived eight lives. I’ve lost plenty of people before. I’ve lost friends, lovers, children. You learn to expect it, but you never quite get used to it. I don’t know why this time should be any different.” 

“I don’t know, Old Man,” Ben said softly, rubbing soothing circles into her back. “In my experience, grief hits differently every time. The why of it doesn’t always become clear. Maybe it doesn’t matter. What’s most important is to let yourself feel. Be upset. Be sad. Be angry. And once those bad feelings run their course, you’ll start feeling good things again. Just give it time.”

“You know,” Jadzia said, “there was a part of me that even started to think of him almost as a son. Silly, right?”

“Not at all,” Ben assured her. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Jadzia gave him one last squeeze before she let him go. Before she could wipe her tears away on her scratchy uniform sleeve, she noticed a matching set of glossy tear tracks leading down from Ben’s own eyes. He helped her clean up her lab, then, once everyone was fit to go out in public again, they went to the Replimat for lunch. Neither had much of an appetite, but it was nice to at least sit together in commiserative company for an hour.

✲

“Of course I was the one who broke him out of lock-up,” Garak admitted. He sat in the wardroom, across from Captain Sisko and Odo. After spending the night in lock-up—under maximum security—Garak appeared much more put together than Odo’s description of last night. The casual observer might even think Garak was as cool and collected as always, but Ben could see the edges of the mask he wore—it was far from seamless, but only if one already knew where to look. 

Garak was obviously stressed. He’d never allow such a slip otherwise. But was it the tragic death of a friend that made him so? Or the impending discovery of his guilt?

Odo stated, rather than asked, “And the one who sent the entire station into a panic with the holographic voles.” 

“Naturally,” Garak confirmed. “I needed a distraction.”

Odo, being chief of security, was leading the interrogation. Ben didn’t have to be present, but he’d requested to sit in on this questioning as well as being regularly updated on the rest of the investigation. It wasn’t exactly standard procedure, but that was just one of the perks of being captain.

Ben tried to pinpoint what it was about this death that troubled him so much. Officers serving under his command died all the time. The thing is, accidents like this one didn’t usually happen. On top of that, this time it was a beloved member of the senior staff. A friend. And despite everything else, Ben could admit, if only inside his thoughts, that he held a certain paternal affection for the doctor. Yes, this one was personal. And if it turned out Garak had murdered Julian on purpose? Ben wanted to be the first to know. Vengeance wasn’t part of the Starfleet charter, but there _ were _ a few things he could do to make a Cardassian uncomfortable until the prison transport arrived.

Odo asked a few more consequent questions before moving onto the meat-and-potatoes of the investigation. “What happened once you got to the docking ring?” he asked.

“Julian made to leave the tube,” Garak said. “I was to stay behind and lower the appropriate force fields. That was when I realized Julian planned to leave the station alone. I was previously under the impression that I would be leaving with him, so I confronted him on the matter.”

Garak paused and took a breath. A dark cloud rolled over his face. “I tried to stop him,” he continued, his voice falling to a low, even tone that betrayed no emotion. “He pulled a phaser on me and said he was leaving the station alone. So I wrestled the phaser out of his hand. We were in a hurry. Security was just around the corner, so I didn’t stop to check what setting it was on. I assumed it was a mid-level stun. Because it’s  _ Julian _ . And Julian is a doctor. He ‘does no harm’, as the saying goes. He’s saddened by every life that’s lost, no matter whether they’re standing with him or firing at him. He had one of the kindest hearts on the station, perhaps in this whole quadrant. So, no, I didn’t bother to check the setting on the phaser. Because Julian, in his right mind, would never put anyone in danger with an active phaser set high enough to kill. I didn’t even consider the possibility.”

“You think he wasn’t in his right mind?” Ben asked, cutting off whatever follow-up question Odo had planned.

Garak answered, “I think the last few days have been very trying for him. His greatest secret is discovered. He’s arrested and taken to security because it’s illegal for him to even exist. His friends, they all say nothing’s changed—that he’s the same Julian and they still care about him—but he sees the wary look in their eyes. He hears the gossip with his advanced hearing. He’s facing life in prison, so with his enhanced brain, he comes up with an idea—what I believe you people call a Xanatos gambit—either manage to escape alone and live as a fugitive from the Federation or be killed and ensure his friends are safe. That no one risks their own lives for him. Either way, he’s free and you all are left relatively unscathed.

“This is pure speculation, of course. He didn’t have the time to explain his full motive, and even if he had, I doubt he would have. But for the sake of pure speculation, might I say that Julian Bashir did not  _ want _ to die.”

“But he knew that if it came down to it, you wouldn’t hesitate,” Ben said. “If, what you’re saying is true.” 

Ben agreed with Garak on one point: Julian didn’t want to die. The rest of his story? Ben had to admit there was a certain logic in everything he’d said. His gut just had a hard time accepting it.

“He loved me, did you know that?” Garak asked pensively, not waiting for an answer. “He only just told me so yesterday. I’d suspected, of course, that he was interested, but I never thought…  _ love _ . Can you believe it? That someone like him could love someone like me. And I killed him.” Garak looked Sisko in the eye, finally unable to hold back the full depth of his emotions any longer. Ben felt a wave of sadness-longing-despair just looking at him. 

“Do you want to know the worst part?” Garak continued. “I loved him, too. I only wish I’d told him how much.”

“I’m sure he knew,” Ben consoled, though it sounded inadvertently hollow. He hoped Garak would be too torn up to notice and take it as the kindness it was meant to be.

Garak didn’t notice one way or the other. He just continued on as if Sisko had said nothing. “I’ve cared about him—deeply—for years,” Garak said, “but I never told him. I was afraid that he would end up getting hurt or even killed because of me. Because of my species. Because of my past. There are any number of reasons. And I was right. Not even a day after confessing to me and he’s dead.”

Ben didn’t know what to say to that. He looked to Odo, who was sat there like a brick wall as he reviewed his notes. Finding no excuse not to, Ben looked back toward Garak.

“Anyway, that’s what happened,” Garak said. “Either believe it or don’t. Just know, Captain, that whatever punishment you see fit for me, it won’t be nearly as bad as living the rest of my life without him, knowing that it’s my own fault he’s gone.”

“We won’t know all the charges against you until the investigation is over," Odo said. "But on top of disturbing the peace and accomplice to a jailbreak, I imagine you’ll be charged, if not for murder than at least manslaughter.” As Odo addressed Garak, Ben thought he heard a hint of sadness, or at least disappointment, in his usually confident and unemotional voice.

Garak jerked his head in what was probably supposed to be a nod. “I understand,” he said.

“In that case, you’re free to go. Don’t try to leave the station.”

“I assure you, I won’t.”

And surprisingly, he didn’t. Then again, there was no reason for Garak to flee. By the next day, the Federation had cleared him of any and all charges relating to Julian’s death. Sisko found the whole thing suspicious, but at this point, there wasn’t anything he could do about it. The case was officially closed.

✲

Garak came to Ops that afternoon with a request to speak to the captain. Sisko let him in his office, curious about what Garak would want to discuss with him. Jadzia, also, was curious and was delighted when Garak pulled the door shut without it clicking closed the whole way. She waltzed over to where Kira was stationed, closer to Ben’s office than she was, held a finger to her lips, and pointed toward the door. Kira glanced at the door, then gave a crisp nod along with her permission. 

“There’s a transport leaving the station today at 19:00 hours,” they heard Garak say. “I intend to be on it. I trust that will be amenable?” 

Sisko replied, “You’ve been cleared of all charges, Mr Garak. You’re free to go wherever you like.”

Kira pointed to nothing in particular on her console to appear busy, Jadzia nodding along, but Worf still noticed their charade as he walked past. Jadzia shushed him with a silent plea before he could even say anything. He frowned, but let them alone and went back to his own station to mumble grouchily about it.

Garak continued on in the background, “I know I am no longer suspect, I was told as much when I was released from lock-up. But I suppose I just wanted to hear the words directly from your mouth. You see, I distrust you, personally, less than I do Starfleet in general or the Bajoran Militia.”

“And here I thought you distrusted everyone the same,” Sisko replied with more sass than was becoming a Starfleet captain. “I’m touched.”

“Not everyone…” Garak paused. Jadzia imagined this was the point where he let out a performative sigh. “I suppose I just wanted to say goodbye. Julian cared a great deal about you and although I distrust you, I must say, I respect you a great deal. Thank you for letting me live on the station these past five years.”

“Even if I wanted to, I could hardly kick you out.”

“A lesser man would have.”

“What are you two doing over here?” Miles O’Brien asked. He may as well have dumped a bucket of ice water over her head for how he startled Jadzia with his sudden appearance. She’d been so absorbed in the chatter behind her that she hadn’t even noticed him approach.

“Nothing,” Jadzia replied on instinct, contradicting Kira’s brusque answer of, “Work.”

O’Brien shot a skeptical eye between them. “Worf said you two were slacking off. He seemed pretty upset about it.”

“We are not slacking,” Jadzia scoffed with mock-offense. “This is important station business.”

There was silence for a moment as O’Brien raised an eyebrow, then another as he shook his head and turned to leave. He immediately stopped and turned back, however, when he heard Garak speak again.

“Is that Garak in there?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t know.” Jadzia dodged with more loftiness than she felt.

“Yes you would, you were eavesdropping.” O’Brien accused. He paused for a moment, then asked, “Anything good?” Worf growled in the background as O’Brien not so discreetly joined in on the girls’ escapade.

“I never did offer you my condolences,” Sisko let out genially.

A slight pause, then Garak replied, “Nor I, you.”

“I assume this trip of yours is one way.”

“It appears that way, yes. This station has always been too cold for me. Too bright. Suddenly, it’s unbearable. It’s dark and it’s freezing and I can’t find a sense of warmth. I can’t imagine staying here and going on as if everything’s the same.”

O’Brien huffed, the scorn plain on his face, “He’s leaving? Just like that?” He tried to get Jadzia’s attention, but she was already halfway back to her own station again. He didn’t seem to notice, however, as he started ranting, presumably to Kira, although she was very obviously ignoring him. 

“I can’t believe he would just run off like that. Well, actually I can. That one has no morals. Never did. Dunno what Julian ever saw in him but-”

“My, Chief,” Garak said smugly from directly behind O’Brien. “Have you been dropping eaves? How utterly amoral.”

O’Brien sputtered and turned red.

Garak held up a hand to silence him. “While I’d love to stay and chat, I do have a shuttle to catch, as I’m sure you’re aware.” He suavely made his way across the room to the turbolift.

“Wait!” O’Brien cried. “You can’t-”

Sisko set a heavy hand upon O’Brien’s shoulder, rooting him to the spot. “No, let him go.”

Under his breath, O’Brien muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Cardie bastard.” Then, at a normal volume, “He was his friend, wasn’t he? You’d think he’d want to at least stay for the service.” 

“Chief, you must understand, people each mourn in their own way. And, I know Julian was very close to you, but no matter how upset you are, I will not have slurs thrown around in Ops.”

O’Brien looked miserably, yet deservedly, scolded. “Sorry, sir.”

Jadzia smiled into her raktajino and got back to work.

✲

After too many hours, a lot of paperwork, and a headache, Benjamin Sisko was finally off duty and able to go home to his quarters to try to sink as far as possible into the cushions of his bed. The only thing stopping him was the message he got from Dax asking him to meet her in her quarters after work. For anyone else, Ben might have blown them off until tomorrow, but Jadzia was his closest friend. He would always be there for her. Even if it meant less relaxation time for himself.

Jadzia’s face lit up upon seeing him, and she promptly pulled him inside and sat him on the couch. 

“It’s about Julian. I was taking your advice and feeling sad, so I ended up reading his note again. Look at it.” She handed him the PADD and pointed to a particular passage. “Either I escaped or I’m dead. Capture was never an option. What if Julian and Garak were trying to escape, but Julian realized they were never going to make it? What if he  _ asked _ Garak to...to do it?” 

Ben could see Garak vehemently pulling the trigger. Especially if Julian had asked him to. “Why…?” Ben trailed off as he read over the note again. “He said he’d rather be dead than spend the rest of his life in prison—or worse. What’s worse than prison?”

“For a criminal in the Federation protected by his rights? Supposedly nothing. But Julian wasn’t the typical Federation citizen, was he?”

“No, of course he wasn’t. Julian was an augment. And there’s been a stigma around genetic augmentation in the Federation since the nineteen-nineties. It stands to reason that the Federation could want him out of the way—in whatever way necessary.”

Jadzia raised a captious eyebrow. “The Federation  _ was _ surprisingly quick to clear Garak of all charges regarding Julian’s death,” she said.

“Like somebody wanted to sweep the whole thing under the rug as quickly as possible,” Ben agreed.

Jadzia nodded. “I’ll look into it.” She pulled out another PADD and began typing.

“There’s no rush, Old Man. Knowing what would have happened to Julian—and what’s going on with the Federation in this matter—it won’t bring him back.”

“But it  _ could _ save another augment,” Jadzia argued.

“If there’s a conspiracy here,” Ben said with a comforting hand on her arm, “it will take time to bring it to light. Your first priority is your health. Take time to mourn your friend.” 

Jadzia let loose a weary smile. “Yes, sir.”

Ben turned to leave but froze as Garak’s voice suddenly echoed through his mind.  _ Julian Bashir didn’t want to die.  _

Cracks were forming in Jadzia’s theory. If Julian asked Garak to kill him… 

“… Why not set the phaser to the highest setting and vaporize himself?”

“Ben?” Jadzia asked.

“I just remembered something Garak said. The setting on his phaser was high enough to kill. But if the point was to kill him, why not just turn it up the whole way? For the drama?” 

“No… Julian was smart. Even smarter than we thought he was. Perhaps he knew we wouldn’t trust a pile of ash as much as a corpse kept mostly intact.”

Ben thought back to Garak’s testimony. When he came to his office. The emotions he exhibited. It was clear that he loved Julian. But could someone, even as cold and ruthless as Garak, kill the man he loved? Probably, but Sisko doubted that he actually did.

Then there was Jadzia. From the beginning, she said that the corpse didn’t seem right. That it didn’t feel like Julian. At first, Ben wrote it off as simple grief, but he should have at least considered that something was off. In all the years that he’d known Dax, the trill’s instincts weren’t often wrong. Ben couldn’t even begin to imagine how one would go about faking a corpse, but if anyone could do it, it was Julian Bashir.

“… You’re  _ right, _ ” Ben exclaimed. Finally, they were on to something. 

“You think he didn’t-? That he might not-?” Jadzia asked without actually asking. Ben understood the sentiment. Saying it out loud would almost make it real and he didn’t want to get his hopes up either.

“He could be,” he said.

“Garak’s leaving the station tonight,” Jadzia reminded him. “We could talk to him one last time before he leaves.”

“Computer,” Ben called, “Locate Garak.” 

The computer chirped back, “Garak boarded a shuttle twenty minutes ago.”

“Is the shuttle still docked?”

“The shuttle departed three minutes ago. “

“Three minutes,” Jadzia repeated. “That’s enough time to call it back, it won’t have gone far.” 

“No,” Ben said, holding her back. “Let him go. I want to know the truth of what happened. And we certainly wouldn’t get it from him.” 

Jadzia hummed in resigned agreement.

“Are you able to search the computers without leaving a trail where you’ve been?” Ben asked her.

“You want me to hack into the networks?” Jadzia asked with a wicked smile, clearly delighting in the idea. 

“Search through his projects, experiments, personal logs, communications, custom replicator patterns, everything.” 

“What happened to taking the time to mourn?” Jadzia teased, her eyebrow arched with mischief.

Ben sent her a wild smile of his own. “I’ve seen you multitask, Old Man.”


	3. Chapter 3

"Doctor, I must say, this is quite the surprise.”

“My being in jail? Yes, I imagine it is,” Julian said from inside his cell. “It’s one of the few things I wanted to talk to you about. The other, though, I think I’ll start with it before I lose my nerve.” He stood up and crossed the cell in two brisk steps so he stood directly in front of Garak, as close as he could. When Julian spoke again, he did so softly. Delicately. And with so much care infused into each word. “I wish it could be under better circumstances, but…I love you, Garak.”

If Garak were anyone else, he might have made some manner of sound more likely to be heard deep in the wild jungles of Mysseri’a Three than on a civilized space station. What he did manage to get out was an only slightly choked, “My dear?” Garak also knew that he was blinking too much. He could feel it. But he had to prioritize which areas of his being required his immediate focus. A good deal went to his short-circuiting brain, still trying to process what he’d just heard.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Julian assured him. “And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I just wanted to tell you while I still had the chance.”

Garak decided to focus on that. “Are you being reassigned?” he asked.

Julian smiled, and oh, it was a sickly thing upon his face. “I’m being discharged and likely arrested. I imagine I’ll be taken to a Federation prison for the foreseeable future.”

“May I ask what for?” Garak asked as if asking for the time.

“I’m an augment. I was genetically enhanced as a child,” Julian answered as if he were giving Garak the current time, except it was the same hour and minute combination as it was when his family was destroyed twenty-some-odd years ago and he never got over it.

“And that’s illegal in the Federation?” Garak said, more than asked.

“Yes, very much so,” Julian agreed.

“Surely you didn’t alter your own genes.”

“No, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. I’m an augment and I’ve joined Starfleet and I’ve become a doctor and I’ve been caught.”

“I see,” Garak said. And he did. Julian didn’t actually love him. He was in serious trouble and this was only a part of his plan to escape whatever horrors the Federation had in store for him. Julian knew that to an outsider, the relationship between the two of them could look a bit ambiguous. This was his way of asking Garak for help—and by Cardassia, Garak would give it to him. “Odo, may I?” Garak gestured to the cell.

Odo walked over with a hrmph. He let down the force field. “Make it quick.”

Garak stepped inside the cell. He took Julian’s hand in his own and raised it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon the back of it. Julian gasped and colored a warm blush. Garak let the hand fall between them and moved closer still, placing a hand on Julian’s cheek and tilting his head slightly to kiss him. On the lips! Garak felt the butterflies in his belly catch fire as he sighed into his dear doctor’s mouth. This wasn't at all how Garak imagined kissing Julian. But Cardassia be damned if he wasn't going to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Once the kiss broke, the two embraced, and Garak made sure his head was on the side facing Odo in case Julian had anything else he wanted to relay to him. 

And it was the correct choice because Julian whispered lowly in his ear, “Help me escape. You owe me, Elim,” before they broke apart. Not too helpful, as Garak had already figured out this whole charade was Julian’s plea for help. But the insinuation that Garak owed him? Well, it was true—Julian had saved his life many times over. But it left him with a sour feeling. Did Julian think he wouldn’t help him otherwise?

And then there was the way Julian had weaponised his first name. He’d said it so kindly, so sweetly, that it almost made it feel like a threat. What did it mean? There was no way Odo could have heard, so it wasn’t part of the act. Garak couldn’t recall a time Julian had ever called him Elim before. Was Garak to interpret that Julian would reveal his secrets if he didn’t comply? A thrilling prospect, though unlikely. Garak had told Julian before that within every lie was a hint of truth. This couldn’t be Julian’s way of telling him that the confession was real… could it? Perhaps Garak was reading too much into it. Either way, the way his name glided so splendidly through Julian’s warm lips had sent a shiver through him—it entered through his ear and wriggled itself the whole way through his body, down to his toes, leaving Garak feeling staticky everywhere it passed.

He pulled his hands around until he held Julian by the biceps. Garak smiled and, on the off chance Julian’s feelings were true, he tried his best to put as much feeling into it as he could. He could always write it off as acting later if he had to. Garak looked Julian straight in the eye and said, ambiguously as always, “Of course I feel the same.” 

All too soon, Odo was ushering Garak back out of the cell and raising the force field again. Before Garak strode out of security and back to his shop to plan, he looked back and saw Julian smiling softly to himself—and although it was small, Garak knew it was real. After all, he was the closest thing to an expert on Julian’s smiles on the station.

✲

At 24:45, the lights in his cell flickered. That was the only heads-up Julian got that something was happening. Well, that and the muffled screams that began shortly after. A few minutes later, Garak entered lock-up and pressed the button to lower the forcefield so Julian could step through. He turned it on again as soon as he was free. 

“So what’s the plan, Doctor?” Garak asked as he removed a panel and continued to fiddle around with the security systems.

“I’ll need to get to my quarters first. There’s some things I need to pick up.” Julian paused. “Where’s Odo?” He asked, trying to get a bearing on the current situation.

“He has more important business to attend to at the moment,” Garak replied. “Namely, chasing a herd of rabid voles around the Promenade.”

Is that what was going on out there? It sounded like a station-wide emergency. Julian shot a warning look at Garak and said, “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Garak said. “That’s why the voles aren’t real. Neither are the select few Bajorans who are getting bitten.”

“…Holograms?”

“Mmm,” Garak affirmed and put the panel back in place.

“They’ll figure it out,” Julian warned as they stepped through to the main security office and noticed all the present officers were lying stunned. Perhaps sedated, depending on which method Garak had used to knock them out.

“Oh, I expect them to,” Garak said as he checked a few more things at the console. “But considering every holographic Bajoran has the proper paperwork filed to be living on this station, and a certain contentiousness added to their programming, I believe it may just give us enough time to escape.” He flashed Julian an enigmatic smile and they exited onto the Promenade. Julian and Garak weaved through the hysterical crowd with the bearing of two people who definitely just happened to be caught up in all this trouble like everyone else and certainly not on the run.

Julian watched the spectacle out of the corner of his eye. “How did you manage such realistic holograms on the Promenade?” he asked Garak under his breath.

“Did you know that Quark has previously experimented with holographic waiters? I simply used the same technology.”

That was a while ago, wasn’t it? “You must have had this planned for a long time.”

“One never knows when they’ll need a distraction on the fly, Doctor.”

Julian was relieved to find everything in his quarters exactly the way he left it. His logical enhanced brain knew it was incredibly unlikely for anyone to have caught on yet, but panic does affect augments just as well as anyone else. 

“I need you to watch the door while I get everything ready,” Julian called back to Garak as he ran around the room gathering things. “Then you can be on your way.” 

The easiest course of action would have been to keep everything he needed in a go-bag, hidden in some corner or other. But if someone were to find a go-bag in his room, it would seem suspicious. So he kept everything he would need for his escape each in a separate hiding place, which took a bit more time to pull together, but seeing as he could bring up the complete list of what all he needed and where to find them in his mind, it wasn’t really that much more hassle. Just a bit more running.

Garak stared at the closed doorway, a standard Starfleet-issue phaser held at the ready. Julian wondered where he’d got it from, but knew better than to ask. 

“So,” Garak said, “Am I to assume you’re planning to go on the run?” 

Julian scoffed as he threw some field rations into a duffle bag then ran over to pull a bag of latinum out from under the couch. Then another from his closet. And a data rod from inside a rather hideous vase. “I know I usually hold tight to my ‘naive Federation ideals’” he said, “but even I don’t hold any delusions about what they’d do to me if I let myself get arrested.”

“You mean to imply it would be worse than the simple prison sentence they’re promising you.” Of course Garak had been looking into the whole thing.

“They’d either kill me outright or keep me in some lab for experimentation or _ something _ . I don’t know. I’m not quite sure what it is they do with the augments once they catch them. But I do know it’d only be a matter of time before I wound up dead. That's what the official record would say, anyway. Some tragic accident, suicide, a fellow inmate with a history of violence, the list goes on.” Julian shuddered just thinking about the reports he’d read. He could only search every so often, and on a wide variety of devices, so as not to alert Starfleet of his interest in the matter. But he had to know what exactly he was up against. He’d found plenty of documentation of augments arrested—for anything from petty theft to murder—and they all ended up legally dead within the year.

“I see,” Garak said. “And yet you still joined Starfleet.”

“I didn’t know all this from the beginning, of course. And even after I did, well,” Julian idly touched his chest where his combadge would have been if he hadn’t had to surrender it upon his arrest. If everything was still normal and he hadn’t been outed as a freak and had to drop everything to go on the run. “I really did just want to help people. Starfleet was still the best way for me to do that.”

“But you seemed to know this would eventually happen,” Garak pointed out. “And yet, at every opportunity, you’ve only ever defended Starfleet and the Federation.”

Julian sighed. “If I’d been critical of the Federation in any way and  _ then _ been found out, it would only be worse for me when I was caught. And… truthfully? I was hoping so badly that I’d be proven wrong. That all those reports I’ve read were just some misunderstanding. That I had nothing to worry about. I could continue on as I had been—treating patients, going on missions, lunches in the replimat…”

After a beat, Garak spoke again, “What you said earlier. You seem to think I wouldn’t help you were it not for some sort of debt you’re trying to fabricate between us.”

“I’m not fabricating anything,” Julian argued. “That time with Tain—the wire-”

Garak cut him off. “You didn’t do that for a favor you might never cash in and we both know it."

Julian, who’d previously been typing quickly on his PADD, halted immediately. He turned robotically to face Garak, who in turn noticed the sudden silence and pivoted only his head to face Julian so the phaser was still pointed at the door. “How do you know that?” Julian asked sharply, the ice in his tone expanding as he continued. “How do you know that at the time, I didn’t run every possible scenario through my head and decide that it would be in my best interest to have someone with your particular skill set indebted to me in case I was ever found out. You don’t know me, Garak. Not really.”

Garak hesitated, looking as though he’d almost decided to turn from the door to face Julian fully. In the end, duty won out, or perhaps it was loyalty, but he kept one eye on the door as the other looked straight into Julian’s soul. “I admit I may have underestimated you in certain regards,” Garak said. “But I do know you, Julian. I admit you may be more devious than I thought, but you are still too kind for your own good.”

“And what if that was all an act? Maybe you never knew the real Julian Bashir at all.” Julian asked desperately.

“Impossible,” Garak scoffed. “Look at you, even now. Breaking out of jail and going on the run all by yourself because you know if you told your friends what would really happen to you if you were caught by Starfleet, they would want to help. They would surely break the rules. And they would all be in serious trouble. You can’t risk their safety in favor of your own. As for myself, you expected me to free you from security and be on my way, and I would be fine living on the station because you know I’ve gotten myself out of far worse. But truely, Doctor, after all this time, you must know me better than that.” Garak’s blue eyes smiled at him. “So, since I’m sure you’ve planned for every contingency, what is the plan for when I tell you I’m coming with you?”

Julian stared at him, feeling the beginnings of a smile of his own tickle across his face. “Really?”

“It can’t be that much of a shock,” Garak said.

“Are you sure?” Julian asked, turning back to the PADD. “It’s risky. And they might still figure it out. You could be in a lot of trouble.”

Garak flashed his brightest smile—Julian didn’t see it, but he could definitely hear it in his voice. “Aren’t I always?”

“Garak-”

“My dear Doctor, you are my most cherished friend, and if you could find it in your highly advanced brain to trust me infallibly for a moment, believe me when I say that for you, there is no risk I’m not willing to take.”

Julian’s hands faltered and he felt heat rise to his cheeks. He took a moment to settle himself. One benefit of his augmentation was that he could quickly realign his bodily functions. He replied fondly, “Trust comes from the  _ heart _ , Garak.”

“Does it now? How intriguing! In Cardassians, it comes from the brain.”

Were Julian not in a hurry, he would have closed his eyes and let [the much needed good feelings] wash over him. But since time was of the essence to him, he simply set the PADD face-up on the table then tucked Kukalaka into his bag and zipped it closed. He strapped it crosswise over his shoulder and turned to the door. “Thank you, Garak.”

Garak nodded cordially. “So then,” he asked, “what do you need me to do next?”

“I’ll need a fully charged phaser and access to an industrial replicator. I’ll also need you to lie a bit later. Or you can call it acting if you'd rather.”

“I don’t think any of that should be a problem,” Garak said. He reached behind himself and with the hand that wasn’t holding his phaser, pulled a second fully charged standard Starfleet-issue phaser out of one of the hidden pockets in his clothes and handed it to Julian. 

“Thanks,” Julian said, trying not to appear too impressed as he checked the weapon. And then, because he couldn’t help himself, asked, “Got any other surprises hidden in there?”

Garak’s sharp smile was back. “Plenty, Doctor. Perhaps later I’ll show you another.”

✲

A minute later, Garak initiated site to site transport—Emergency Transport Protocol Garak Twenty-two, to be precise—and Julian and Garak materialized in the middle of Quark’s quarters. It was the closest to the industrial replicator he could get them on a moment’s notice. 

“Why are we here?” Julian asked as he looked around, seemingly expecting Quark to jump out from somewhere.

“From this location, it should be simple enough to make our way to the industrial replicator without being noticed.”

“Ah. Right. Quark lives on level seventeen.”

“The same level the industrial replicator is housed on,” Garak confirmed.

They exited to the hallway and quickly, stealthily, made their way to the industrial replicator. The hour being what it was, nobody was out and about to notice them. Normal people were either in their quarters getting ready for bed; at work on the night shift; or socializing on the promenade which consisted of drinking at Quark’s, playing in a holosuite, or of course, getting chased by voles.

Arriving at their target, Julian immediately addressed the replicator: “Duffle bag pattern Bashir six-two-five-delta, heated to an internal temperature of 37 degrees celsius.”

The computer chirped back, “Authorization required.”

Julian spoke the command code rhythmically. The computer chirped a confirmation and his order materialized in front of him. He hefted it up, then turned. “Here, hold this for a second,” he asked of Garak.

Garak blindly held out his arms to accept the item. “A mannequin?” he asked as Julian approached with it.

“Not quite,” Julian said and handed it over.

Garak scrutinized the item as it settled into his arms. Once he realized what it was, he nearly dropped it out of shock. “Doctor, is this what I think it is?” he asked tightly. He unlocked his knees to make sure the light-headedness he’d begun to feel didn’t knock him over. He felt the contents of his stomach begin to swirl as a wave of nausea passed over him. He wondered if he’d need to ask Julian to replicate him a bucket. It wasn’t often Garak was so considerably affected by a situation, but this was- 

“A one-hundred percent biologically accurate human body. Perfect match for Julian Subatoi Bashir, right down to the altered genes. Except, of course, unlike me, this one’s not alive. Replicators are unable to create the ‘spark of life’ so to say, but they can create an incredibly convincing replica of a dead body. We’re going to have to act quickly from here because...”

How could Julian say all that so brightly? So excitedly? Didn’t he see how morbid it all was? Even though Julian stood before him, very much alive and going off on a tangent about some sciency thing—Garak wasn’t paying attention to the words, only focusing on the smooth cadence of his voice to try and keep himself grounded—Garak still felt like he was holding Julian’s corpse. 

He tried not to look down at the limp body cradled in his arms. The head lolled back over his arm. He wanted to readjust it. To support it. To make him more comfortable. But Garak's own body felt frozen. He couldn’t do anything but stand there and stare at it. The eyes, luckily, were closed tight. Garak couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors of looking into Julian’s dull lifeless eyes. He was having a hard enough time observing Julian’s still chest. It should be rising and falling evenly, but it wasn’t because Julian wasn’t breathing. Julian wasn’t breathing because he was dead. He was dead. He-

He was calling Garak’s name.

“Garak? Are you alright?”

It took Garak a second to realize why Julian had been able to speak to him without moving his lips. He forced his eyes up to meet the Julian in front of him. 

Julian had a frown on his face and his eyebrows were scrunched together and his eyes were sad and he was  _ breathing _ . “I’m sorry,” Julian said, “I didn’t realize… I didn’t think this would be so hard on you.”

“I’m fine,” Garak tried to say. It came out as more of a choked whisper.

“You’re not,” Julian said as he dropped something to the floor and wiped a stray tear from Garak’s cheek. He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. “I suppose I should have at least given a warning beforehand. I guess I just liked being the mysterious one for once. I liked having you trust me. Even if it was misplaced.”

“Misplaced?” 

“I hurt you,” Julian said softly, but the way he said it… it sounded like he was the one hurting.

“It was just a shock,” Garak said, regaining his composure. “I’ll be fine. Really. But you will not if we don’t continue with this plan of yours.”

Julian hesitated for a moment, then nodded and removed a data rod that was wired into the replicator and threw it into his bag. He took some of the latinum and supplies out and put them in an identical bag lying on the floor. He then pulled out a thermal blanket and threw it over the body. “How well can you see in the dark?” he asked Garak.

“Better than I can in these bright Federation-standard fluorescents.”

“Good. we won’t need any night visions then,” Julian said, then he held his arms out and nodded toward the body. “Give me that and you carry the bags.”

Garak opened his mouth to argue—to say that he was perfectly capable of carrying it, or that he didn’t need Julian’s pity, or some other contrived excuse before he realized he really didn’t want to continue holding his best friend’s corpse and would, in fact, be much more content to carry the bags. So he snapped his mouth shut and let Julian take the item from his arms. He picked up Julian’s bags and they headed for the nearest Jeffries tube.

“You’re going to fake your own death,” For some reason, Garak felt compelled to state the obvious.

“Yes,” Julian confirmed as he removed the hatch and maneuvered himself and his double into the bowels of the space station. “I’ll fill you in on the whole of the plot on the way,” he promised.

✲

Julian and Garak arrived at the docking ring, near an airlock leading to a runabout, but before they exited the Jeffries tube, there were a few things left to do.

“You’re fine with the plan?” Julian asked Garak one last time. “Know what you need to do; one-hundred percent ready to go?”

“Yes, my dear. Everything’s fine on my end.”

“Alright.” Julian manipulated his clone’s body so he could hold it upright in front of him. The blanket that was keeping it warm lay abandoned on the floor. He held out a limp right arm. “I need you to put your hand around the wrist right here,” he showed Garak, who then wrapped his large hand around the dead body’s tiny wrist. Under different circumstances, Julian supposed it would have been quite thrilling to see Garak’s hands restraining him. 

“Good,” Julian praised. He felt after what happened before with the body, Garak could use it. “On my count, you’re going to squeeze for five seconds. Remember, you’re trying to get me to drop my phaser. Ready?” He looked up to Garak who nodded once. “Now.” Garak began to squeeze tightly. Julian counted out loud, “Two. Three. Four. Five. Good.” Garak let go of the wrist as well as a breath he’d been holding.

“Are you ready?” Julian asked, one last time before they crossed the point of no return. He strapped his decoy bag over the corpse’s shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be,” replied Garak, sharing one last loaded gaze with Julian. 

Julian, for his part, tried to fill the look with all the things he didn’t get the chance to say to Garak. All the emotions he hadn’t yet revealed. Would Garak understand? Did he realize how much this all meant to Julian? To throw away what little comfort Garak had on the station to make sure Julian made it to safety? To follow Julian’s lead without the slightest hesitation? Julian wanted to thank him. To commend him. To kiss him.

Gosh, did Julian want to kiss him. But now wasn’t the time.

Julian exited into a corridor and Garak followed. If he ran to the end of the corridor, turned the corner, and continued running, he’d be on a runabout in forty-three point six seconds. He could have lowered the force fields which stood in his way and done just that. Instead, Julian stayed where he was. He pressed a button on a remote, which triggered a bomb he’d placed a few meters back in the Jeffries tube. It was small, so the only thing it destroyed was the circuitry that controlled the lighting on this level. The darkness, however, wasn’t a problem for Julian with his genetically enhanced eyesight or for Garak with his Cardassian vision which naturally favored the twilight shades.

Now, they just had to finish this act of the drama they’ve created before they get caught. The alterations Julian had made in the circuitry in the Jeffries tube would hopefully slow down anyone trying to lower the force fields, and besides, Engineering would likely work on rerouting the lighting before they even tried. So for now, they seemed to be in the clear.

“No, Garak,” Julian said, just loud enough so that the security officers who were undoubtedly stationed at the airlock could hear him. “I’m sorry, but I have to say goodbye now.” He stood the clone up to his side and held it there.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Garak pleaded, exactly as the script required.

“I don’t want you to give up your life for me.”

Garak reached into Julian’s soul with his stare. It was kind and sad and hopeful. The most emotions Julian had ever seen on his face at once. “What life do I have on this station?” Garak asked. “I would much rather help you.” 

“I can’t let you do that,” Julian said, beginning to actually feel the emotions he was only supposed to be acting. “Trust me, Garak. It’s for your own good.”

“What are you going to do, Julian, shoot me? After all this?”

“If I have to.”

“Go ahead then. It’s the only way you’ll ever stop me from following you.”

Julian’s heart shuddered. How did he ever think this was a good idea? How did he think he could handle this?

“You can’t do it, can you?” Garak asked.

“I will.” Yes, he had to do this. He had to follow through with the plan. He’d end up hurting a lot of people, but it would save his life. Was that exchange worth it? His life for all of this emotional turmoil?

“That’s enough,” Garak continued. “We are getting on that runabout and we are going to leave here together.”

Garak fired the phaser. It hit the clone in the dead center of its chest. Julian let it fall to the floor as he dove back inside the Jeffries tube and replaced the panel covering the entrance. As he picked up his bag, he heard Garak’s voice crying out to him in his false death and felt a tightness well up in his chest. Garak sounded so broken. Was he just playing a part, or would Julian’s death truly shatter him so completely? 

With his real go-bag clung to him, Julian navigated the tubes to the cargo bay, pointedly ignoring the tears filling his eyes. He didn’t need to see all the details anyway—he had his path memorised. He only needed to get inside a crate marked for Bajor and he’d be on his way to (semi) neutral territory tomorrow. By the end of the week, he and Garak would be headed toward a much more substantial freedom on some far distant planet.

✲

“So what do we do now?” Jadzia asked blankly as she and Sisko both stared at the information on the screen. They’d spent the better half of the night researching, digging into the systems, searching for the tiniest clue to reveal what really happened to Dr Julian Bashir. She took the task as seriously as any other, perhaps even more so, but if she were honest with herself, she hadn’t actually expected to find any answers. Yet, there it was.

“We don’t tell  _ anyone _ ,” Sisko said with his no-nonsense captain’s voice. “Delete everything here.”

Jadzia stood shocked. “You want to keep this secret?” 

“He did this all for a reason, Dax. If word gets out to the wrong person, he could be in serious danger. For now, this stays between you and me.”

Jadzia knew he was right. She only wished it didn’t have to come to all this. Lies, deception, a faked death. She chuckled at the absurdity of it all. “I can’t believe he planned this whole thing.”

“Well, it seems he did have some help.” 

And that was the interesting part. Jadzia had always wondered about Garak. He’d been interested in Julian from the day he first met him—and vice versa—but just how deep did those feelings run? To run away together, that took a good deal of commitment, right? 

Julian always fell in love as if diving off a cliff face into the sea. Quick, deep, and without regard to his own well-being. He’d been in love with Jadzia herself for a short time, but she would never have been the right person for him. They both knew that and chose their friendship over a doomed romance. She only hoped that Garak  _ was _ the right person. That his feelings ran as strong as Julian’s. 

She had a gut feeling that they did.

“You think we’ll ever see them again?” she asked Sisko, leaning against him as the last dregs of raktajino dissolved from her system.

Sisko replied with a noncommittal hum. He slung an arm around her and pulled her into a half-hug. “I just hope wherever they are, they’re happy.”

Jadzia couldn’t agree more.

✲


End file.
